Peas and Chocolates
by AloHanahMora
Summary: It's hard to fall in love when you know that chemically, love involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, serotonin, and phenylethylamine.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** There is absolutely _NO_ magic in this story.  
Yes, this will be a Hermione Granger/Spencer Reid FanFiction.  
The beginning of the story takes place during Season One of Criminal Minds.  
For the purpose of this story, Hermione is 22 and Spencer is 24

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Criminal Minds. If I did, I'd be a whole lot richer.  
Summary is from Criminal Minds season 2 episode 13 when Dr. Spencer Reid defines love.

 **Summary:** It's hard to fall in love when you know that chemically, love involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, serotonin, and phenylethylamine.

* * *

 ** _"Which death is preferably to every other? 'The unexpected'."_**  
 ** _\- Julius Caesar_**

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia  
September 19, 2005  
7:28 P.M.**

* * *

"Happy birthday to me... Happy birthday to me..."

Hermione Granger was a woman sure of many, many things. And right now, she was absolutely positive that she had gotten herself into a horrible situation that she wasn't even confident she could get out of.

In short, she was well and truly fucked.

She regarded the room she'd been in for the past week with dismay tinged with anger – soundproofed and built out of concrete, Hermione had no way out. She trudged onto the twin mattress and glanced at the large plastic clock, then to the door with more than slight apprehension.

" _Seven-thirty,"_ she thought, licking her lips as sweat beaded her forehead. _"Any minute now…"_

"Happy birthday dear Hermione... Happy birthday to-"

The large door opened up without the slightest creak and she felt her throat close up in fear, blocking her airway as she stared at her captor. He brought with him a cup of water, a slip of paper, and a slice of what looked to be chocolate cake.

She loved chocolate.

And he knew she loved chocolate.

Hermione suddenly felt very nauseous. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to eat her birthday cake, after all.

"Baby," he crooned, upon seeing her huddled into the corner of the mattress. "Happy, happy birthday, honey"

"Please-" Hermione began to croak out a plea but cut herself off when the man began to caress her face.

"Now, now Hermione." He tutted. "You haven't been taking care of yourself, haven't you? My, your face is all puffy! Have you been crying again?"

"I-"

"I don't like it when you cry, baby. You know that." And she did know. She knew just how much he hated it when she cried.

She still had the scars and bruises to prove it.

"I-I- perhaps I wouldn't if you'd let me go."

Her captor shook his head and gently kissed the back of her hand. "You know I can't do that, my dear. Then how would I be able to protect you?"

Hermione shuddered in disgust at the feel of the man's chapped lips on her skin and forced herself to not flinch or to pull her hand away. She knew better than to give him what he was looking for and she absolutely refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how shaken she actually was. Instead, she let her red-rimmed eyes roam the man's face and noted absentmindedly how incredibly attractive he was – flashing grey eyes, artfully tousled brown hair and a jawline that could cut glass, Hermione- who had the I.Q. of 185 and had graduated with a PhD in Psychology- was enraged to discover that she had succumbed to the handsomeness and charm of the man before her. She had watched the news a few days before her abduction where the BAU special agent Jareau had warned the public about an attractive white man in his late twenties who had kidnapped – and killed – four women Hermione's age.

"Happy birthday to you..."

Hermione was harshly ripped from her inner musings and, with a slight jerk, identified the cause of her sudden discomfort.

The man was singing to her.

She blinked hastily as she felt tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.

"Happy birthday dear Hermione..."

 _"It's my 22nd birthday and I'm spending it with a deranged man - no, murderer - who has kept me in a room for seven days and is calling me 'dear'."_

Hermione had the sudden urge to fall into a hysterical fit of laughter.

The man grinned widely at her, showing off his dimples and rows of pearly white teeth. _"Oh, how mum and dad would've loved you..."_

"Eat up!" He crowed and expectantly eyed the slice of cake and looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I-" She mustered up a weak grin. "Thank you, b-but I don't much like chocolate."

The birthday girl flinched as she spied the man's clenched fists and narrowed eyes. The vein on his temple began to throb and she could almost hear his teeth grit in anger and annoyance as he forced out:

"Don't like chocolate? You don't like CHOCOLATE?!" He suddenly stood up in front of her and grabbed her neck with a tight grip, and Hermione weakly clawed at his arms but to no avail- her face was already turning red.

 _"Please, God, don't let me die now..."_

Her handsome man suddenly let go of her neck and grabbed both of her arms as he shook her wildly and yelled:

"I RESEARCHED! DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY! I KNOW _EVERYTHING_ ABOUT YOU, HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! THINGS YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOURSELF! Now-" He breathed in deeply and, after seeming to calm himself, let go of the tight grip he had on her arms. Hermione, still frozen, couldn't help but think of how much bruising she'd have on her body when she gets away and comes out of this ordeal alive.

 _"If..."_ She mentally chided herself. _"If I get out of this alive."_

"Now," Her captor continued. "Do you want to eat some of this DELICIOUS chocolate cake?" She did not miss the way he stressed the word 'delicious'. Nor did she miss the way his eyes seemed to harden as he asked her the question.

 _"More of a command, really..."_ Floated through her thoughts before she mindlessly flicked it away. It would not do well for her to show fear.

"I don't know what I was thinking." The young woman rasped out, willing the pain in her throat to go away. She sounded so _weak_. "Chocolate is my favourite type of cake!"

The man nodded in assent and chirped out, though not without an underlying hint of warning in his voice. "I know it's your favourite because I know you best. You know I love you, baby."

This was not the first time he had told her he loved her. He said it so many times that she knew just what he wanted out of her.

"I- I love you too." She dug her nails into the mattress, compelling the image of her throwing up to go away.

They stared at one another for a couple of minutes, manic fondness falling across his features.

"Well?" He asked. "Why don't you taste it?"

It took her a split second to realize that she still hadn't tried any of the cake.

 _"My birthday cake."_

She hesitantly grabbed the plastic spoon- he never brought her forks anymore, ever since she tried to stab him in the eyeball the second day she'd been stuck in the room- and took a small chunk out of the cake. She paused, just before it went into her opened mouth and the man - upon noticing her reluctance- pushed the spoon in. She chewed slowly and Hermione felt that if he could, her captor would chew it for her just so she wouldn't take so long. She caught a glimpse of irritation flash across his face.

"It's delicious," She admitted softly. "It's really very good."

He said nothing but he nodded once. Twice.

Hermione deduced that he wanted her to finish the cake and she did, with deliberate slowness, but she made a conscious effort of keeping a smile on her bruised face.

"Good." He said, after she had finished it and continued cheerfully, radiating joy and flushed with excitement. "Now, you know what happens next, baby."

"Y- yes. Of course. " She nervously stammered, eyeing the cup of water he had brought with him.

The man began to explain the rules to "the game", as he did so every night since she was placed in the room. "I ask you a question and you have two chances to give me the correct answer. I won't give you hints and I will only ask you the question once. So you better listen." He warned, wagging a finger in front of her face. Hermione felt an animalistic urge to bite it off.

"You know what happens if you get the question wrong, don't you?" He tilted his head towards her in expectation and she nodded slowly, opening her mouth to answer before noticing how dry her mouth was.

 _"Happy birthday dear Hermione..."_

She reached for the cup of water he had brought in and took a sip, relieved as she felt the cold liquid travel down her throat and the answer spew out of her mouth in its haste to dislodge itself from its meaning.

"I die."

 _"Happy birthday to me..."_

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia**  
 **BAU**  
 **September 12, 2005**  
 **10:06 A.M.**

* * *

"Police reported another missing person this morning, said her name's Hermione Granger." Agent J.J. passed out the case folders to each of the members of the BAU before moving to the front of the room, the rest of the team swivelling their chairs to face her.

Derek Morgan furrowed his brows and asked, "How do they know she was taken by the same UnSub?"

J.J. turned on the screen and showed them a photograph of the girl- warm, chocolate brown eyes flashed in contrast with porcelain skin and half of the image was filled with long, riotous chestnut curls. Hermione Granger grinned widely at the camera, showing rows of brilliant white teeth. Hotchner's eyes immediately snapped onto the girl's neck, where a thin scar ran along the length of it.

 _"An accident, maybe? Or perhaps she'd been held captive before…"_

Dr. Reid studied the file in front of him and said: "Well, says here that Hermione's 21 years old – her birthday's in seven days- and has an I.Q. of 185. She has PhDs in Psychology and Law and has a BA in Sociology meaning that-"

"She's just his type." Morgan finished, shaking his head before grinning wryly. "Sounds like the female version of our Boy Genius, huh."

The so-called "boy genius" just shook his head and flipped a page of the case file.

"Poor thing," Garcia's voice floated over the line. "She hasn't even settled in yet and she'd already been kidnapped by a man who's having psychopathic delusions."

"Hasn't settled in?" Elle Greenaway's voice was questioning. "How long has she been living here?"

"Lived in London for 16 years until she got accepted into Harvard." Garcia's eyes widened in awe and continued. "She graduated with two PhDs- Psychology and Law- and a BA in Sociology. Moved here about two months ago, stayed at the Holiday Inn at Dumfries for two weeks before moving in at 22 Owen Street, Stafford."

"Wait, two months ago? That was when the first body disappeared." Morgan exclaimed.

The rest of the BAU looked at one another uneasily.

Gideon narrowed his eyes and clasped his hands together. "Does she live alone?" He inquired.

"Uhhh…" The BAU could hear the clicking of Garcia's keyboards before she answered, "Yup. She didn't seem to know anyone before she moved here."

"Statistics show that at least 48% of people who move away from their homes are looking for a fresh start and at least 63% of those 48% are women who have been in bad, even abusive, relationships." Reid recited, staring intently at Hermione's neck.

"She does have a scar on her neck. It looks like someone put a knife on her throat, could be an abusive boyfriend?" Hotch asked. "Garcia, could you look for all the people that Hermione has been in a relationship with?"

"Honey, I could give you the names of every single person she's looked at or talked to." She replied, already tapping away on her keyboard. "Let's see here… There's a Victor Krum that she dated for a while when she was fourteen. Oooh, juicy!"

"Victor Krum? The famous Bulgarian rugby player?" Came from Morgan, whose eyebrows shot up almost instantly after hearing the athlete's name.

An image of a muscled man with a large curved nose, thick black eyebrows, and a surly expression appeared on the screen.

"He was eighteen when they got together. He met her when he went to England for a rugby match and was going into high schools to talk to students about hard work and determination and yada-yada –yada… Hermione got a lot of bad press from a columnist named "Rita Skeeter", got called a scarlet woman in a lot of her articles and received tons of hate mail from people raging from pre-pubescent teenagers to 40 year-old cougars."

"Where's Victor Krum now?"

"Victor Krum," Garcia read, "is currently residing in Bulgaria with his childhood best friend and wife, Darina Krum, and their two little girls, Iva (7) and Pavla (3)."

"Can't be him, then." Agent Gideon announced to his team.

Hotch swivelled around to look at Gideon in the eye before asking, "You think it's one of her old boyfriends?"

"Could be."

"Wait-" Greenaway interrupted, looking back and forth between her two superiors. "What was the point of kidnapping and murdering those four other women, then? If he just wants Hermione?"

The rest of the team looked at the images of the four other women- all with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Further research showed that all of them had I.Q.s ranging from 150-175 and now, all of them were dead.

"He was searching for her," Gideon answered. "He probably found out she was moving here and, knowing what she looked like, started to take women who looked similar to Hermione. Upon finding out that he captured the wrong person, he killed them."

"He also knew that she was a genius," Morgan continued, rubbing his chin. "Based from the other women he's kidnapped. But-"

"But they weren't smart enough." Elle's eyes widened in realization. "How did he know that they weren't her? How did he know that they weren't smart enough to be Hermione?"

"Questions." Reid answered, running his hand through his hair before looking at Hotch. "He asked them questions and when they got it wrong, he kills them! But, how about the other women? How did he know about their I.Q.s?" He wondered aloud.

Garcia's voice cut through their thoughts, "There are loads of online I.Q. tests nowadays and a lot of them ask for your name, your age… Sometimes even your address and your picture."

All of their shoulders visibly slumped, and Reid even whacked his head on the table. _"That's a lot of sites with a lot of people running them…"_

"Anyway, do you guys still want to know about Hermione's past relationships?"

"Go for it, Garcia."

A picture of a man with sandy brown hair and piercing blue eyes appeared in front of them. He was standing in front of a mansion looking very sharp in his black suit, an arm wrapped around a dolled-up Hermione Granger who was wearing an exquisite looking ball gown.

"There was a Cormac McLaggen when she was sixteen. He's the nephew of a prominent businessman, Tiberius McLaggen and he dropped out of Harvard when he was 21 to pursue an athletic career in soccer. He's also the current goalie of the Holyhead Harpies. Complete hottie- his eyes are the most wonderful shade of blue-"

"Garcia!" Hotch interjected amusedly, rolling his eyes at the rest of his snickering team.

" _Anyway_ , they met at Harvard when he was nineteen and there is an article with Hermione and Mr. Hottie on it about a debutante ball that he took her to. She was referred to by a bunch of awful names and was written by, you guessed it, Skeeter."

"Seems like this Skeeter woman really has it in for Hermione, doesn't she?" Morgan said seriously.

"That she does, hot stuff." Garcia agreed. "Mr. McLaggen has been in France for the past two weeks preparing for a match against the Quiberon Quafflepunchers."

"Not our guy either." Hotch exhaled with a sigh. "Are there any more, Garcia?"

"Yup," Garcia stated, nodding her head. "Last but not the least, Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley."

A ginger-haired man- freckles scattered all over his pale skin- appeared in front of the BAU whose expressions showed varying degrees of surprise.

"He doesn't really seem to have any similarities with her previous beaus, doesn't he?" Elle inquired, tilting her head as if looking at the image of the man in front of her from a different perspective.

"Childhood friend of Hermione's- they've known each other since they were eleven. Their parents knew one another and they became friends through forced association. Even though she skipped several grades, the two of them kept in touch with one another and Hermione apparently thought of him and this other guy, Harry Potter-" here, an image of a man with windblown, messy black hair and emerald green eyes showed up on the screen next to Weasley's image- "as her best friends."

"When did they get together?"

"Ms. Hermione and Mr. Ginger here got together just two years ago. They moved in together after a year and they broke up just three months ago... Huh. This guy moves on quick. He proposed to his ex-girlfriend two months ago- a girl named Lavender Brown." Garcia announced, shaking her head in disgust.

The team perked up upon hearing that.

"He's trying to show Hermione how much better off he is without her…" Reid concluded in a matter-of-fact tone.

Morgan nodded. "And it looks like we just found the cause of her leaving. Garcia, was he abusive towards her?"

The agents sat in tense silence as they listened to the clacking of keyboard and the creaking of a chair.

"Nothing on him, sir. If he is, then no one's reported him."

"Where's Mr. Weasley now?"

"Uh, he currently lives just outside Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon, England with his parents."

"He's getting married and he still lives with his parents?" Incredulity laced through J.J.'s voice and she looked amusedly at Elle.

"Oui, mon cherie," drawled Garcia, smirking. "However, he is set to live with his fiancée in a nice little home after they get married on September 19th, 2005."

"That's in seven days…" J.J. mused before trailing off, eyes narrowing in realization.

"He's getting married on Hermione's birthday!" Reid yelped out, shock evident in his features.

Gideon chuckled wryly and twisted his lips in amusement. "He can be cruel but he just doesn't scream 'killer!' to me."

"I agree," Hotch said, looking at his team. "But where does that leave us?"

"With four murdered women, a missing female brainiac, and zero suspects as to who our UnSub is." Morgan huffed out in frustration and rubbed his face with his palm.

* * *

 ** _"Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you."_**  
 ** _-Loretta Young_**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thoughts? Don't forget to review!  
Also, yes, those statistics were pulled out of my ass but I didn't want to bother actually looking for real facts. _Sorry_. However, the hotel and the house addresses ARE 100% real.  
It took _forever_ for me to write that scene between Hermione and her captor.

 **Translation: Oui, mon cherie** \- **Yes, my dear.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** There is absolutely _NO_ magic in this story.  
Yes, this will be a Hermione Granger/Spencer Reid FanFiction.  
The beginning of the story takes place during Season One of Criminal Minds.  
For the purpose of this story, Hermione is 22 and Spencer is 24  
Thank you all for your patience and your nice reviews! I appreciate the support.  
(God this chapter was such a bitch to write)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Criminal Minds. If I did, I'd be a whole lot richer.  
Summary is from Criminal Minds season 2 episode 13 when Dr. Spencer Reid (tries to) define love.

 **Summary:** It's hard to fall in love when you know that chemically, love involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, serotonin, and phenylethylamine.

* * *

 ** _"Loves loves to love love"_**  
 ** _-James Joyce, Ulysses_**

* * *

 **Ottery St. Catchpole, England**  
 **"The Burrow"**  
 **December 31, 2002**  
 **11:24 P.M.**

* * *

Loud, raucous laughter could be heard from within the Weasley residence, mingling with the strong scent of whiskey and wine. Snow fell heavily from the sky and the wind blew unforgivingly harshly; however, one could not help but go outside and brave the conditions just to take a look at the stars- scattered thickly across the dark expanse of the sky, shining and twinkling. Even though the Burrow-and all its occupants- was enticingly inviting her into its familiar hearth, Hermione could not help but feel as if she did not belong. She walked slowly, so as not to disturb the pile of soft snow under her boots, and clutched the mug of eggnog she had brought outside with her, relishing its warmth.

The young woman softly hummed a jaunty little holiday song under her breath, lost in the loud shrieks of the wind.

She mindlessly brushed a tangled curl away from her face and set down the empty mug as she lied down on the ground, paying no mind to how cold and damp she felt, and looked up at the sky.

 _"3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!"_

Hermione, who was curled up in the snow, shivering, continued to sleep peacefully.

No one bothered to look for her.

* * *

 **London, England**  
 **White Mulberries Café**  
 **February 12, 2003**  
 **3:06 P.M.**

* * *

"Where's Harry?"

The bustling of the café drowned out the brunette's words as she twisted her body to look at the door, a group of teenagers blocked her view. She glanced at the man in front of her, eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Ahhh… See, he's not really invited." Ron bustled out, the tip of his ears turning red as he fidgeted with the end of his shirt.

"Not really invited? Ronald, he's –"

"I know, I know." He shot out, already sounding irritated. "But I- ahh bloody hell."

Hermione furrowed her brows and tilted her head, "What is it?" She did not bother to reprimand him for his language. After all, she was the one who taught him some of the more obscure words. Confucius said it himself; "You cannot open a book without learning something."

"Do you want to, um, you know…" He managed to blubber out.

"No, I really don't." Hermione replied, shaking her head frantically. _"Oh dear God please no… Don't tell me he-"_

"Go out with me." Ron breathed out before he frantically tried to correct himself. "I mean- go out with me… Please?"

Hermione's eyes were wide and her face was flushed with embarrassment.

"Aha…" She smiled weakly, pulling at the neck of her blouse _. "When did it get so hot in here?"_

She looked around madly, desperately praying for someone to come and save her from her friend's lecherous gaze and the ensuing awkwardness. Her skin crawled, and she felt wretched at the thought of doing… **_Anything_** with Ronald. Hermione crossed her fingers and wished for the ground to swallow her up.

 _"Where's a fucking earthquake when you need one?"_

However, when she looked at her long-time friend's face- which was openly hopeful and expectant, eyes glittering brightly in happiness- she found that she couldn't bring herself to say no to him, no matter how palpable his wanton desire **_(for her!)_** thrummed in the air.

"Sure, Ron. Why not? Carpe diem and all that." Came out of her mouth next, paired with a haphazard wave of her hand.

"I knew you would say yes!" He intoned smugly, lips curved up in a self-satisfied grin. "After all, I am-"

What he was, Hermione didn't want to hear. Instead, she cut him off with a hasty "Yes, yes. This is a wonderful thing that's happening right now… You asking me out… Me saying yes to you asking me out…"

 ** _"Oh bloody buggering fuck what have I gotten myself into?"_**

"So," he stood up suddenly, an aura of self-assuredness surrounding him, "Valentine's day at Madam Puddifoot's? I'll pick you up at 7."

As Hermione watched him pick up his car keys and his jacket, she realized belatedly he was talking to her. _"About the date…"_

"Madam Puddifoot's? Ronald, you _know_ how much I detest that tea shop. It's always too bloody frilly and it smells horrendous- like a factory for the perfume you put on corpses." She ranted angrily, glaring at him.

"Fine," Ron gritted out, glaring back at Hermione, tension crackling in between them. "Where do you want to go, your highness?"

Guilt immediately flooded Hermione's system. He had just asked her out, **_ON A DATE_** , and she was already arguing with him. Ignoring the petulant voice in her head that demanded she change the location of the date (or even cancel it), she apologized to Ron and assured him that yes, she would love to go with him to Madam Puddifoot's for Valentine's.

Before he left the café, he pulled on a lock of her hair and leant in close to her to whisper: "Wear something nice for me, eh, Hermione?" He pulled back with a sleazy grin and a raunchy wink before he strutted out the door, whistling merrily, leaving a disgusted Hermione staring after him with wide eyes.

"Fuck!"

All of the other customers shot her disgruntled looks at her outburst and she loudly apologized, clapping her hand over her mouth as she realized what she had said. Ignoring a yelp from one of the patrons, she quickly stood up from her chair and strode rapidly towards the door and out of the café, head bent down as she hid her grimace.

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia  
22 Owen Street, Stafford  
September 14, 2005  
8:47 A.M.**

* * *

Upon noticing the multiple squad cars parked in front of Hermione Granger's home, Reid and Gideon hastened to approach the policewoman pacing on the pavement, a two-way radio clutched in her right hand. Gideon flashed her his FBI badge and signalled for Reid to do the same as he shook the woman's hand.

"I'm Agent Gideon, FBI. And this," he said, pointing at the younger man behind him, "is Dr. Reid."

The police officer glanced towards Reid with a raised eyebrow, but quickly turned her head back towards the older agent. The profilers were not at all surprised at the look of astonishment that appeared on the officer's face when she heard the young man be referred to as 'doctor', Reid was only 24 years old.

The genius swallowed down the wave of irritation that surged through him, unaware of the contemplative look he was receiving from the other agent.

"I'm Officer Frazier, thank you very much for coming to help us with this." Relief tinged her voice.

Gideon merely nodded before he strode towards the door, Dr. Reid and Officer Frazier not far behind. He put on a pair of latex gloves before grabbing the door handle, tossing the younger agent another pair and twisting the door knob.

"Have you found anything, yet?" He inquired, taking note of the multiple books strewn across every available surface of the room. He deftly picked one up from the burgundy couch, flipping it over to look at the title.

"Huh," he chuckled slightly and noticed that Reid, who had just entered the victim's house, was looking at the other titles with unabashed curiosity, humming in approval (and contentment) as he flipped from one cover to another. Gideon walked towards him and plunked 'Ulysses' by James Joyce in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement as Dr. Reid immediately start to peruse through its contents.

"We've found nothing but a few travel boxes and a big 'ol suitcase. She hasn't lived here long." Another officer replied, shaking his head and extending his hand towards Gideon. "Officer Riley, pleasure."

"Agent Gideon. That one over there is Dr. Reid." He looked around the room and went up the stairs, sharp eyes immediately scanning over the bare walls and several unfurnished rooms. The bedroom consisted of a queen-sized bed, white covers neatly tucked and pillows fluffed, a large wardrobe made of mahogany, and a large bookcase covering an entire wall filled with books of different sizes and genres. Reid, who was scrutinizing the shelf as if he wanted nothing more than to inspect the tomes that filled it, forced himself to look away and marched towards the immaculate bathroom.

"How long has she been living here, two months?" Gideon wondered aloud, peering inside the cardboard boxes and seeing that within it lay a few frames. He picked one up and saw that the photograph was of Hermione, Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley, arms wrapped around each other as they stood in front of a stadium, grinning widely. He passed the frame Reid, who took the picture out of frame and studied the message scrawled at the back of it: _"Hermione, Harry, & Ron. July 1994."_

"Two months and yet, she hasn't taken any of her personal items out of the box, save for her clothes."

Reid continued his train of thought and added, "Some of the rooms here are still unfurnished yet her library's already been set up. A library, Gideon! And it's FILLED with books of different genres from different authors about different topics." Reid was barely able to contain his excitement, and he couldn't help but wish that they would be able to rescue Hermione Granger from her captor, alive and well.

He definitely wanted to peruse throughout her library, and maybe even pick at her brain a little. It would be impossible for him to do those things if she were dead.

Gideon quirked an eyebrow at him, but he ignored it.

"The other women were taken from their homes, yes? Yet there are no signs of struggle. Why is that?"

"Maybe…" Reid furrowed his brows in thought. "Maybe she did know him, personally. No, no. She definitely knew him personally, that's why she trusted him enough to get out of her own home and follow him to wherever he took her. Hermione's obviously very intelligent, based from her I.Q. score and the books she reads so she wouldn't have just followed her captor."

"The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." Gideon intoned nonchalantly.

"Ernest Hemingway," said Reid, and tilted his head in consideration.

"We better meet up with the rest of the team, see what else they found." The older agent ordered as he went down the stairs and shook the officers' hands, Reid doing the same.

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia  
Behavioral Analysis Unit  
September 6, 2005  
1:36 P.M.**

* * *

"The UnSub," Reid stated, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he faced the local police force. "Is a handsome, white male in his late twenties."

"Handsome? Why does he have to be-"

Hotch cut the officer off and answered, "Because all these women were very intelligent. They wouldn't have followed an unattractive male to wherever he took them."

"UnSub?" The same officer asked in confusion, continuously tapping on his notepad with a pen.

"Unknown Subject. That's what we call suspects in a criminal investigation."

"Our UnSub has a certain 'type' of women that he prefers- all of them 5'4" tall or shorter, curly brown hair, and highly intelligent. Their I.Q.'s ranging from 150-175."

"He also drives a neat, well-maintained, and expensive looking dark car like a black Ford, for example." Elle added, before nodding at the group in front of her to indicate that the BAU were finished with their briefing.

"I'll set up a press conference and release this UnSub's profile to the public." J.J. announced before she dashed out of the building, cellphone in hand.

The police force nodded back in unison and began to scatter throughout the building when they were interrupted by a fellow officer- Officer Jiles, if they were not mistaken- whose face was already turning into an unattractive shade of puce.

"So we're looking for a good-looking man in his late twenties who- what? Stalks short, smart girls with curly brown hair and drives a black Ford? How is this supposed to help us?" The aggravated police man seethed incredulously, not-quite glaring at the BAU- but close.

"Profiling is used to identify the perpetrator of a crime based on the manner in which the crime is committed, the evidence left behind, and sometimes the nature of the victim. By investigating the crime scene, we, as profilers, can make educated guesses as to various aspects of the UnSub; race, age, mental state, social standing, etc. This type of information can help us identify who the UnSub is and be able to catch them before they do any more harm. Capiche?" Reid ranted, raising his eyebrows at Officer Jiles before he spun on his heels and walked out of the room.

Morgan's eyes crinkled in amusement and he smirked slyly, commenting to Gideon: "Never knew Reid was one for dramatic exits."

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia  
Behavioral Analysis Unit  
September 16, 2005  
5:46 P.M. **

* * *

"Agents? There's a Garcia on the line for you, says she has some information for the case."

Hotch nodded and approached the telephone. "Got it, thank you."

The officer tilted his head towards the BAU and scuttled away.

The team dashed towards the interrogation room, where a telephone was placed in the middle of the table. Gideon leant forward and pressed a button, putting the tech-analyst on speaker before he stepped back and waited for his team to settle.

"Please tell me you got something good for me, baby girl." Morgan pleaded, placing his hands on the piece of furniture.

"Depends." She replied, and the team could almost see the flirtatious smirk she had on her face.

"On what?"

"On how good of a span-"

"You're on speaker!" Morgan blurted out frantically, eyes wide as he surveyed the BAU members who were smiling or, in Reid's case, cringing.

"Ah… Yes, uhm…" Garcia blubbered, feeling the blood rush to her face. _"Thank God no one can see me…"_

Seeming to compose herself, she replied. "You know how all these women were taken from their homes, yes? Well, I just found out that the victims were all in the same place as our Ms. Granger before they were abducted from their homes."

Agent Greenaway narrowed her eyes and said carefully, "So all of these women were followed to their homes by the UnSub? Just because they looked like Hermione and were in the same place she was before they disappeared. Where-"

"The library." Gideon muttered. "The UnSub wasn't aware that the women he murdered were very intelligent or that their I.Q. levels were high, only that they frequented the library. Like-"

"Like Hermione…" Gideon nodded his assent.

The team took a second to digest this information.

"Why didn't the UnSub know where Hermione lived? If they knew each other, why couldn't he have just kidnapped her from her house?" This came from Morgan, and all the other agents nodded their heads in contemplation.

"It's because he didn't have access to that type of information! No one knew Hermione all that well here and I doubt anyone even knew that Granger was her surname, so the UnSub couldn't just ask and have someone point him to the direction of her home!" Reid gasped out excitedly, pacing back and forth.

"So this person knew her well enough to know that she frequented the library, but not well enough to know where she lives?" J.J. clarified.

Reid nodded in affirmation.

"Hello? Your Goddess of Knowledge is still on the line and has more wisdom to give you." Garcia ranted in slight exasperation.

"You do?"

"Hermione's last name isn't really 'Granger'."

The team froze upon hearing this and a tense, shocked silence hung over the room. From the other line, all Garcia could hear was the scraping of chairs as everyone clamored to get closer to the phone.

"She's adopted?"

"That she is. She was brought to Wool's Orphanage in London when she was a year old and was adopted by the Grangers when she was about three."

"Wh-what happened to her parents?"

"Uh, they died. Car crash, neither of the parents survived. But, get this," She reported quickly, "A little 5 year-old boy was found- _alive_ \- inside the car along with Hermione."

"A brother? You're saying she has a brother?" Morgan stressed, tapping his fingers on the table.

"Uhuh." Garcia affirmed cheerfully, tapping away on her keyboard.

"So this- maybe this brother of hers thinks he's protecting her by locking her up inside a room."

"Like a real-life Rapunzel." Morgan shook his head.

"Well, actually, in the original Brothers Grimm story of Rapunzel, her father agreed to give her to the enchantress because he stole some rampions from her garden, and not because-"

"Reid." Morgan interrupted the boy genius, eyeing him in amusement. "I know."

"Explains why there weren't any signs of sexual assault on the victims."

"What's her name, Garcia? Hermione's name, before she got adopted?" Hotch asked, already putting on his suit jacket and grabbing his keys as they waited for her reply.

"Give us the name and the location of the brother as well," this came from Gideon.

"Her brother moved to Quantico just two months ago, roughly a week after Hermione did. He's staying at the hotel on Jefferson Davis Highway, second floor, room 26."

"Garcia, **_name_**."

The team held their breath in anticipation and Reid fiddled with the strap on his messenger bag, all thoughts regarding Rapunzel buried deep in his mind.

 _"1 Mississippi…"_

 _"2 Mississippi…"_

 _"3 Mississi-"_

"Diggory. Cedric Diggory."

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia**  
 **September 11, 2005**  
 **10:02 P.M.**

* * *

Hermione clutched the books tighter as she walked speedily down the stairs, huffing out a breath of frustration upon realizing that she could barely see anything outside. The young, bushy-haired woman fumbled slightly when she tried to insert the key into her car and swore when she almost dropped it, unaware of the man that was quickly making his way to her. A second later, Hermione grinned triumphantly as she slid into her car, dropping the books on the passenger seat, and started the ignition.

She shook herself when she felt the fatigue settle deep into her bones, causing her eyelids to droop and her body to slacken. Hermione blinked repetitively and drove out of the parking lot, heading towards her home as she increased the volume of the radio- for as long as she could remember, silent car rides always made her feel uneasy.

God. How she hated Fred and George for making her watch all those stupid, scary movies.

She smiled at the thought of the twins before a wave of loneliness took over, causing her breath to hitch and her hands to shake slightly. Hermione gripped the stirring wheel tighter, determined not to cry. She missed London. She missed her family, her friends, her old job, her house, her **_cat_**.

"Oh, Crooks…" She murmured, a sad smile on her face.

Her face hardened, however, at the thought of seeing Ronald and Lavender sucking each other's faces off. She was resolute in starting anew, and she'll be damned if she let herself wallow in self-pity while Lav-lav and Won-won get married and live happily ever after.

Hermione didn't love Ron like that, she never did. But after finding out that her boyfriend had been cheating on her with his ex (for a year!), she couldn't help but feel betrayed. _"What he did was damn disrespectful and just fucking insulting."_

She couldn't bear to show herself to her friends and her family after that. She finally cracked after a month of pitying glances and whispered gossip- so she fled.

And she was determined not to look back.

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia  
22 Owen Street, Stafford  
11: 13 P.M.**

* * *

The clock ticked ominously in the background as the young woman prepared to go to bed, tying her hair up and out of her face while she climbed up the stairs, a step creaking in protest. Even with the doors locked and the windows bolted shut, Hermione could not help but feel agitated and on edge, and she was absolutely positive that someone was following her. Eyes closed, she forced herself to relax.

 _"Breathe in…" **Whoosh**_

 _"Breathe out." **Haaaa**_

 _"Breathe in…" **Whoosh**_

 _"Breathe out…" **Haaaa**_

 _"Breathe in-"_

"Hello, Hermione!"

Hermione turned so quickly she was afraid she might injure herself from a whiplash. She turned on the lamp beside her, heart pounding frantically beneath her chest. However, when she saw who it was, her posture relaxed and she even gave the visitor a blinding smile.

"Cedric!" She rushed towards him, hugging his middle. "How did you get in?"

The handsome young man winked roguishly and showed her his lock-picking kit. Hermione knew how mischievous he could be when he wanted.

"Wanted to surprise you. It's been so long!"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Too long. How long has it been since we've last seen each other? Five years?"

"Four years and eight months, my dear." He replied matter-of-factly. His response made Hermione's eyes narrow imperceptibly and she casually took a step back, survival instincts kicking in. As if seeing her reaction, Cedric took a step closer.

 _"Too close. He's too close…"_

"Why are you here, anyway? This is America, for God's sake did you get lost again?" She continued to joke with him.

Cedric just chuckled merrily and waved his hand. "I moved here a couple of months ago, had some unfinished- _business_ \- to attend to."

His eyes flashed towards her for a moment before he grinned at her again, charmingly. "Anyway, that's not what I came here for. Would you care to go out and have a couple of drinks with me?"

No matter how suspicious her friend was acting, she couldn't say no. After all, in a span of four years Cedric had to have changed somehow.

Right?

"I'd love to, let me just go get changed and grab my coat."

Hermione emerged from her room ten minutes later, clutching a beaded purse that contained some money, her phone, and a stun gun. It was not until she was safely fastened into his car that a question popped into her brain, causing her heartbeat to quicken.

"How did- how do you know where I live, Cedric?" She struggled to keep a pleasant smile on her face as she stammered over her words.

"I followed you, of course." This was said with the utmost sincerity. "And please, call me brother."

Time seemed to freeze for the young woman as the radio announcer loudly announced the name of the next song. It took a few moments for Hermione to collect herself as she licked her lips and asked:

"Brother?" Hermione unconsciously gripped her seatbelt, grasping for her purse to reach for her phone before she realized that Cedric had somehow taken hold of it, along with her stun gun.

"Cedric, Ced please let me go. Cedric-"She pleaded, trying to unfasten her seatbelt before a larger hand covered her own.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't do that, little sister." He shook his head sadly before he pulled over next to an empty park, grabbing something from the compartment in front of Hermione. Seeing her chance, she kneed him in the face, pushing him off of her as she unfastened her seatbelt and quickly opened the door. She fell out of the car, hands braced in front of her as she landed on the ground, but before she could make a run for it, Cedric grabbed her and injected something into the back of her lower leg.

 _"What-"_

Hermione struggled to keep her eyes open as she kicked him, already feeling the effects of the drug as she lethargically crawled out of the car. She did not get farther than three feet before he grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder, laying her gently on the backseat of his car.

The last words Hermione heard before she passed out were: _"Got to keep you safe…"_

* * *

 _ **"Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home."  
\- James Joyce, Ulysses**_

* * *

Author's Note: Don't forget to review!  
That little rant on criminal profiling from our favourite boy genius? You can find it on the Criminal Minds wiki on Criminal Profiling. Am I allowed to do that? Someone PLEASE tell me I'm allowed to do that.  
I had to edit this chapter so. Many. Times. (Mostly because of plot holes, which is entirely my fault).  
The lovin' will come soon, though probably not in the next two chapters because, well, Reid is Reid and Hermione is Hermione.  
*Special thanks to **apriljunemay** for all those badass suggestions.*


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** There is absolutely _NO_ magic in this story.

Yes, this will be a Hermione Granger/Spencer Reid FanFiction.  
The beginning of the story takes place during Season One of Criminal Minds.  
For the purpose of this story, Hermione is 22 and Spencer is 24  
Thank you all for your patience and your nice reviews! I appreciate the support.  
(Seriously thank you for your patience this chapter has been lounging in my laptop for a week)  
THIS IS DEDICATED TO **_HAPPYBEA_** BECAUSE I MISSED THEIR BIRTHDAY I'M SO SORRY I LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU FOR READING

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Criminal Minds. If I did, I'd be a whole lot richer.  
Summary is from Criminal Minds season 2 episode 13 when Dr. Spencer Reid (tries to) define love.

 **Summary:** It's hard to fall in love when you know that chemically, love involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, serotonin, and phenylethylamine.

* * *

 _ **"Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like."  
-Lemony Snicket**_

* * *

 **TownePlace Suites  
Quantico, Virginia  
September 16, 2005  
6:23 P.M.**

* * *

An old man wearing an ill-fitting black vest looked up from his newspaper as several men stampeded through the door, clothed in bulletproof vests and wielding guns. The three women next to him- all dressed in yellow- gasped in unison, looking at one another with barely supressed excitement and fear as the FBI agents scanned the room, eyes flitting back and forth. Silence reigned throughout the hotel lobby as people held their breaths in anticipation, holding up their camera phones to document the entire proceeding and turning towards the receptionist who had bravely strode towards the intruders before jumping back in fear as one of the agents focused his gaze on him.

"We're the FBI Mr., ah, Stiles." The dark agent said unnecessarily, waving his hand towards the BAU. "We'd just like to take a look at the room of one of your customers, Cedric Diggory. Agent Greenaway-" He glanced at the striking woman beside him, who hastily took out a piece of paper from her pocket and showed it to the receptionist.

Stiles stared at Agent Greenaway for a moment, seemingly confused, before his eyes widened in realization as he wrenched his head to look at the image of a handsome young man, beaming at him from the photograph. He looked at the male agents with a slightly smug smile on his face as he whispered conspiratorially: "Always knew there was something weird about him- been here for a couple of months and doesn't seem to want to leave. Good for business, of course, but still-"

"Morgan," One of the agents said briefly, still scrutinizing the hotel lobby. "Room 26, second floor. Take some people with you." The receptionist looked affronted at being cut off, but knew better than to argue with an FBI agent.

"Gotcha, Hotch." The handsome agent- _Morgan_ \- nodded and ran towards the stairwell, a line of armed men racing after him.

The three women in yellow had clustered together and were now giggling loudly, whispering to each other. _"So his name is Morgan…"_

"Reid," Agent Hotch continued, looking at the scrawny man beside him, "Go check outside and take Elle with you, Gideon and I will look at the lobby."

The BAU nodded and went their separate ways, ignoring the wide eyes and the speculations that were very quickly spreading throughout the room.

"Maybe someone died or committed suicide. I heard that-"

"Is there a bomb in the building? Oh my god someone please tell me that there isn't-"

"What if there's a murderer staying here? Did you hear about that one who killed the all those wome-"

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I am Agent Jareau from the FBI and I assure you that there is absolutely no reason to panic. The FBI is just here to conduct an investigation." The blonde agent called out soothingly, calmly. "We would like you all to please cooperate and answer any of the questions that Agents Hotchner and Gideon will ask you. Thank you."

Hotch showed everyone the image of Cedric and asked: "Do any of you recognize this man?"

No one spoke for a moment as the crowd looked at one another frantically, trying to figure out what the FBI wanted with the attractive man on the picture. No one spoke for a moment before a woman- dressed in a canary yellow sundress- stood up and approached the agents.

"I've seen him, once. In the gym."

"And are you sure this is him?" Gideon probed.

"Oh, that is definitely him. He's very handsome, you know. And I can't just forget a face like that!" She giggled loudly, prompting two other women dressed in the same colour as she to laugh along with her.

"The three of us," She continued, cocking her head to beckon her friends over, "We've talked to him a lot because we're always working out at the gym, too."

The other woman, this one dressed in a bright yellow jumpsuit, announced proudly to the other inhabitants of the room: "We do a lot of cardio," and gave a sultry wink towards Reid, who had just come in, Elle trailing after him.

Gideon pulled the women to a corner of the lobby to give a quick interrogation as Hotch strode towards Elle and Reid, raising an eyebrow questioningly and receiving shakes of their heads in return.

Hotch's radio crackled statically as Morgan's voice called out:

"Hotch, she isn't here- _he_ isn't here."

"Well if he isn't keeping her in his hotel room, where else could he be?"

"I think I may have an idea." Gideon spoke, approaching the team from the corner of the room. "There's a house near the forest, a trail leads right up to it and it's completely secluded. Those women said that they've seen him jogging there a couple of times."

Reid raised a brow skeptically, "Do we know who the house belongs to?"

Gideon shook his head and answered, "It's abandoned. They're set to demolish it in a few weeks."

"Let's go check it out."

* * *

 **September 16, 2005  
6:54 P.M.**

* * *

The team quietly headed towards the dilapidated house, fallen leaves crunching beneath their soles. Morgan walked quickly to the front door, looking around carefully as Reid and Greenaway scanned the perimeter. Spencer nodded once, Elle doing the same after.

"Cedric Diggory," Hotch yelled from beside Morgan, holding his gun close to his chest. "This is the FBI!" They listened carefully for a response, bodies leaning towards the walls of the house. However, all they could hear was the whistle of the blowing wind and the light rustle of dead leaves falling off of trees.

"Morgan-"

"On it." Agent Morgan gave a wink and took a deep breath, narrowing his eyes in focus as the door fell off its hinges from the force of his kick. The team was momentarily blinded as clouds of dust rose from a filthy welcome mat- one which depicted an image of three bears dressed in faded shades of blue holding a wooden sign that said "Welcome to our home!"- and did not notice the tall figure watching them from the other side of the room.

"What do you want with me?" The BAU recoiled in shock as they held their guns up, cautiously looking at the handsome man in front of them.

"You're Cedric Diggory?"

"Yes."

Gideon slowly approached Cedric, lowering his weapon in the process. "Where's Hermione, Cedric?"

Cedric's eyes narrowed furiously as he pointed a gun at the agents, taking a step back and swivelling his head back and forth in slight paranoia. "What do you want with her? I demand that you answer me- WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH HER?!" He screamed, veins throbbing in his neck and his temple, face an ugly shade of puce.

"We just want to take her somewhere safe, Cedric." Hotch answered soothingly, keeping a hand on the gun in its holster.

This seemed to infuriate Cedric even further as he threateningly put his finger on the trigger, shaking the gun upwards. "She's safest with me." He gritted out, daring anyone to say otherwise.

"Now, why do you think that?" Gideon questioned him, opening his arms and attempting to placate the man.

"Because," The good-looking man answered easily. "I'm her big brother."

"Listen, man. I've got two little sisters and I would never keep them in a place like this." Morgan said, surveying the room's peeling wallpaper and moldy couch.

"He's right," Elle continued, "We could take Hermione someplace better- we'll even give her a-"

"NO!" Cedric raged, taking a step forward. "YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!"

"Why don't we ask her what she wants, Cedric? If she says she wants to stay here with you, we won't try to take her away." Reid compromised, eyeing the gun in the other man's hand with trepidation.

Cedric shook his head slowly. "No… She doesn't know what she really wants but-" His voice broke as he pleaded tearfully. "I'll take care of her! I promise! She's my baby sister, I won't EVER hurt her just PLEASE leave us alone!"

"You killed four women, Cedric. I'm afraid we can't just leave you alone." Hotch stated evenly, furrowing his brows.

Cedric's mind raced and his breathing quickened. He couldn't let these people separate him from his baby sister- _he wouldn't._

 _"I have to get out. I have to grab 'Mione and run. Grab 'Mione and run. Grab 'Mione and run. Grab 'Mione and…"_

He was getting desperate- there were five FBI agents trying to take his 'Mione away from him and the chances of him being able to get himself and his baby sister away from the house unscathed was virtually impossible. _"There has to be a way. There HAS to."_ He thought nervously, eyes flitting around the room.

 _"Aha!"_

Cedric sloppily aimed his gun at the lightbulb and squeezed the trigger, sprinting away as he ignored the yells from his unwanted guests.

 _"Grab 'Mione and run."_

* * *

Hermione shrieked in fear as a face, barely illuminated by the flickering light of the candle, loomed in the darkness. She tensed when she realized it was Cedric.

"Mione, baby, listen. We have to leave, okay? Quickly. I'm so sorry I have to do this, but I have to make sure you won't yell."

"What-" She began, but was startled into silence when her so-called "big brother" aimed a gun at the side of her head. She widened her eyes fearfully towards Cedric, and frustratedly attempted to blink back her tears.

"I'm so, so sorry." He whispered sorrowfully, leading the quietened Hermione outside of the house while holding her hand.

 _"Grab 'Mione and RUN. Grab. 'Mione. And. Run. Run. Runrunrunrunrunrunrun..."_

"Don't. Scream." Cedric warned her before he hurried towards the forest, clamping his hand painfully around Hermione's wrist as she silently followed behind him.

* * *

"DAMN IT!" Morgan groaned angrily as he placed his hands on top of his head, exhaling loudly. He surveyed the area around him, seeing nothing else but trees. Cedric knew the area way better than he did, and there was no way he would be able to catch them in the dark. He squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated, and called into the radio.

"DAMN IT! Hotch, we lost them."

* * *

 ** _"Some things are destined to be - it just takes us a couple of tries to get there."  
_ _-_ _J.R. Ward, Lover Mine_**

* * *

Author's Note: I apologize that I haven't been able to update as much as I wanted to and I'm sorry that this chapter is so short compared to the previous ones. DON'T WORRY! Many, many more things are going to happen and I PROMISE that the next chapter will be humorous + sweet + maybe a little angsty. Thank you for reading and don't forget to leave a review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** There is absolutely _NO_ magic in this story.

Yes, this will be a Hermione Granger/Spencer Reid FanFiction.  
The beginning of the story takes place during Season One of Criminal Minds.  
For the purpose of this story, Hermione is 22 and Spencer is 24  
Thank you all for your patience and your nice reviews! I appreciate the support.  
I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT SCHOOL AND LIFE AND UGH EVERYTHING IS GETTING IN THE WAY I LOVE ALL OF YOU!

This is what you've all been waiting for- the meeting of Ms. Hermione Granger and Doctor Spencer Reid.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Criminal Minds. If I did, I'd be a whole lot richer.  
Summary is from Criminal Minds season 2 episode 13 when Dr. Spencer Reid (tries to) define love.

 **Summary:** It's hard to fall in love when you know that chemically, love involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, serotonin, and phenylethylamine.

* * *

 _ **"You can't blame gravity for falling in love"**_

 _ **-Albert Einstein**_

* * *

 **Quantico, Virginia  
September 19, 2005  
7:17 P.M.**

* * *

Hermione's vision blurred as she took a step, clutching onto the tall figure's arm tightly as she struggled to stay upright, breathless with exhilaration.

 _"Freefreefreefreefreefreefree…"_ Was the only thought in her head, and she would've broken into a dance if she had the energy to do so. She couldn't even muster up enough strength to walk, much less do a twirl.

The young woman cried out weakly as she felt another set of hands grab her, pulling her towards one of the cars. Using the last bit of energy she had left, she pulled her right arm back and jabbed forward, the sound of bone hitting flesh crackling loudly mingled with a low, loud moan and an amused chuckle.

"Who're you laughing at, Pretty Boy?" Morgan grouched, cradling his reddening cheek.

"You." The man holding Hermione replied, grinning widely.

Hermione, despite currently being disoriented, still manage to put two and two together and blushed deeply, rubbing her knuckles.

"Ah- I'm very sorry about that." She whispered, sheepishly pointing at Morgan's cheek. "I thought you were-"

"No need to apologize." The man- _Pretty Boy_ \- intoned evenly, biting his lip in an obvious effort to hide his laughter.

Morgan nodded in agreement, giving the young woman a small smile. However, he did take note of Reid's growing mirth and glared at him, rolling his eyes when the younger agent simply gave him a smirk in return.

Hermione's voice cut its way into his head as she asked monotonously: "What's going to happen to Cedric?"

The BAU looked at one another awkwardly before Elle stepped forward, replying gently: "It isn't up to us, I'm sorry."

"All those other women, did he really-" Hermione continued tearfully, eyes watering.

"He did. We found some of their hair in his hotel room." Hotchner answered calmly, albeit a bit tense.

Hermione grew angry- at the police for not catching Cedric way sooner, at Cedric for murdering all those poor women, and at herself for being unable to save those women.

 _"If only I'd been easier to kidnap, then there would've been no other victims. FUCK!"_

Gideon, noticing her inner turmoil, attempted to comfort the distressed woman. "Listen, Hermione, you couldn't have-"

"Yes, I could've. You know it, I know it, they know it- heck, everyone knows it! If he had caught _me_ the first time he tried to, then no one would have died." She retorted, wiping tears angrily from her eyes.

The BAU couldn't help but silently agree with her statement, heads bowed down as they tried to avert their eyes from the woman in front of them (who was still, incidentally, leaning heavily on Reid.)

"Listen," Morgan interjected, "You could've died, then, if he caught you two months ago. All of these questions, I mean, you can't expect someone to know the answers to all of these." He held up a stack of small slips of papers in his left hand, flipping through them quickly.

"Hit me." Hermione requested, lifting her head up stubbornly and staring intently at Morgan.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, but acquiesced, tilting his head towards the pile of questions.

Derek let out a loud sigh but took out the piece of paper from the very bottom of the stack, saying: "First question- Who was the president of Guatamela in 1999? See? These are impossi-"

"Álvaro Arzú. Next question?"

Hotch, who had moved to peer over Morgan's shoulder to look at the answer, widened his eyes in surprise. "She's right!"

"Huh. Second question-" Morgan continued, disbelief evident in his voice. "Which country gained independence from the United Kingdom in 1960 and is today a member of the European Union?"

"Cyprus." Hermione answered, taking in a harsh breath and letting it out loudly, hands shaking as beads of sweat slid down her face. "I- I think I want to stop. Can we stop? Please- I… Stop- "

"Shhh, shhhh. Hermione, it isn't your fault." Gideon whispered, holding onto her arm tightly. "Hermione, calm down."

"I-I… I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. Please-" The young woman cried out, breathing quickly as her pulse quickened. Black spots faded in and out of her vision as a cry of "Medic!" rang from the back of her mind.

 _"I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm drowning someone please help. Please stopstopstopstop I-"_

Hermione quickly grabbed Pretty Boy's hand when she felt several other bodies surround her, caging her in.

Reid's breath caught in his throat and he could feel his heart thud harshly, pounding when their latest victim held his hand into her much smaller one. He licked his lip and squeezed her hand, lacing their fingers together as he felt her grip slacken slightly, receiving a small smile of gratitude.

Reid stood still as he watched the medics take her away, still feeling the warmth of her hand in his as a blush began to redden his cheeks while a giddy smile fought its way on his lips.

"Hey, Reid. What's up with you?" Morgan questioned, furrowing his brows at the odd look on Reid's face before his mouth opened in realization, looking at Hermione.

"Pretty boy… Do you-?"

"Shut up."

"You do!" Morgan cackled in amusement before Reid punched him in the arm, averting his eyes from the older agent's.

"I said, _shut up_."

Derek waggled his eyebrows at Reid, who strode away from him towards the rest of the team.

* * *

 **Police Precinct; Quantico, Virginia  
September 21, 2005  
12:39 P.M.**

* * *

The police force watched with growing interest as the young woman stomped around the room and swear loudly into the mobile phone clutched in her right hand, the other one fussing with the roots of her bushy hair. Hermione grinded her teeth in frustration and snapped her head to glare at her audience, who immediately glanced down at their paperwork in an effort to look as if they hadn't been eavesdropping.

"Bloody hell, Ronald! I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. TALK. TO. YOU!"

The people in the precinct winced as the woman shrieked, not noticing the entrance of the BAU. The team, however, was greeted with a silent crowd- except for the woman shrieking in the middle, of course.

"FUCK YOU! Give the phone back to Harry, now! Or else…" She hissed, not missing the shakiness of Ron's breath when he said her name.

 _"Hermione…"_

One of the policemen went up to the team and pointed at the frazzled woman, trying (and failing) to hide his amusement. "She's been at it for about… 10 minutes now. This 'Ronald' fella must've done something awful."

"He did." Reid replied, placing his hands comfortably in his pockets.

"What do you want?" She asked tiredly in one swooping exhale, curling her fingers in an effort to not throw her phone at the wall. A few moments passed in palpable silence before the young woman shook her head and rolled her eyes, tilting her face towards the stark white ceiling.

"Noted. Now, can you give the phone to Harry?" Her eyes landed on the BAU as she spun around in exasperation, finally noticing how silent everyone in the precinct was.

 _Did I miss something?_

"I don't care how sorry you are, Ronald. I called to talk to Harry, not you. So if you could please use the last bit of intelligence you have left in that insufferably tiny brain floating in between your gigantic ears- oh, wow. That asshole…" Hermione pouted, putting her phone away.

Morgan, grinning cheekily, shoved their youngest agent towards the woman when she began to make her way towards them. However, Derek realized that he had severely overestimated Reid's strength as he fell forward, desperately clutching onto thin air for something to stop his descent.

That something happened to be Hermione.

Hermione jumped as she felt Reid grab the hem of her shirt, pulling it downwards. She wrenched his arm away hastily and held onto his wrist tightly, using all of her strength to tug him back up.

The BAU failed to hold onto their laughter when Hermione, who overcompensated and pulled a little _too_ hard, fell onto the floor, yanking Reid's body towards her.

With their faces centimeters from each other, Spencer got a very good look at the woman below him. He could see the freckles splattered across her nose, the slight crease between her eyebrows, and the scrunch of her nose. He could see the slight dryness of her lips, could smell the mint of her toothpaste, feel the-

 _"Ahem."_

Reid jerked away from Hermione's face, blood rushing to his face as he stood back up. He avoided his fellow agents' amused gazes and held out a hand for Hermione pulling her back onto her feet before he put his hand back in his pocket and stared at his shoes.

"I… I'm sorry, for that, um-"

"It's fine." The young woman gave him a small smile as she dusted herself off. "Thank you for helping me."

"It's, uh, it's cool. Yeah, everything- everything's cool. I, um, I'm… Cool. I gotta head to the bathroom, it was, it was nice seeing you. Bye." Reid stuttered before he rushed to the bathroom, shoes stomping heavily onto the concrete floor.

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked the team as they watched Spencer walk away.

Gideon chuckled and shook his head fondly, replying "He's fine. Just a bit, confused, at the moment."

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously when the BAU- even the previously tense one who looked like he had a stick up his arse 24/7- began to laugh uproariously.

* * *

 **BAU; Quantico, Virginia**  
 **September 19, 2005**  
 **1:33 P.M.**

* * *

"We've got to get her away from him, Hotch! Who knows what he'll do to her?" Morgan gritted out, his hand pressing against the top of his head.

"I don't think he will hurt her, didn't you hear what he said? Cedric thinks we're trying to take his sister away from him-"

"We are!" Derek interjected loudly.

"Let me finish. He thinks he's protecting Hermione by keeping her with him."

"So are we just going to let him keep her?" Elle questioned incredulously, furrowing her brows.

"Definitely not." Reid answered. "He might start to think that the only way to keep her safe is if he himself kills her, and it looks like that isn't too far away."

"What was he protecting Hermione from, though?" Gideon wondered aloud, rubbing his chin. "Garcia?"

"Yes sir?" A voice answered from the other end of the phone.

"Look up more information on Hermione Granger. Relatives, old addresses, favourite colour…"

"You got it, sir. Let me see, hmmm…" Garcia hummed, tapping away on her keyboard. "Hermione Jean Granger: born on September 19, 1983. Parents died in a car crash on December 26, 1984 on their way to their relatives – poor things- and she was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Granger on October 2, 1986. Oh!" Their tech-analyst gave a slight gasp, which made the team strain their ears to hear her next words. "They were both taken into custody for child abuse when Hermione was 12 so she lived with her aunt and uncle, the Wilkins, before she got accepted into Harvard…"

There was a short moment when no one spoke before Gideon asked: "Was it publicized? The Grangers, I mean."

"They were a really influential family so, yeah. It was all over the news."

The BAU look at one another, processing the information. Morgan sighed and lowered his head when Hotch said: "So where would he keep her?"

* * *

 **September 19, 2005**  
 **3:02 P.M.**

* * *

"Got any ideas?"

A groan.

"None at all."

* * *

 **September 19, 2005**  
 **5:28 P.M.**

* * *

"Still got nothing." Sigh.

* * *

 **September 19, 2005**  
 **6:29 P.M.**

* * *

 _"Hello? That man on the posters- Cedric Diggory, was it? - I just saw him at the supermarket. We both went to grab the same jug of milk and his hat got knocked off. Ran away really quickly after that, didn't even bother to bring his basket with him. I know for SURE it was him, he's such a handsome young man, you know. Pity he might turn out to be the killer of those four women. Anyway, I saw him get into a nice black car… The plate number? Oooh…_ *muffled* Jack? What's that handsome man's car's plate number again? The black one with the- yes, that one. _It's VBK-1241… Where did- oh, I'm afraid I don't know where the car went, I'm sorry. Yes, yes, yes. You're very welcome. Goodbye!_ *muffled* Oh dear, I forgot the milk. _"_

* * *

 _ **"Falling in love is very real, but I used to shake my head when people talked about soul mates, poor deluded individuals grasping at some supernatural ideal not intended for mortals but sounded pretty in a poetry book. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot."**_

 _ **\- E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly**_

* * *

A/N: I know, I know: I suck at updating.  
That license plate is COMPLETELY made up so if it's yours, I apologize. You're Cedric Diggory now, I guess.  
ALSO the quotes in this chapter are honestly amazing so if you skipped over them 1) How dare you and 2) READ THEM!  
Don't forget to REVIEW!


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